Oh Bollocks, Not Another One
by IcarusWing
Summary: When Sealand shows up at England's house for the first time, England is forced to make an important decision: take him under his wing with the possibility of repeating past mistakes, or turn him away because it's not worth the risk of having his heart broken again?


**A/N: Happy birthday, Sealand! This fic is about the first time England and Sealand meet, which is why I thought it would be an appropriate birthday fic. Yeah… I'm sorry, Sealand. I love you~**

**Disclaimer: Seeing as I'm a FAN writing a FICTION and posting it on a website dedicated to FAN FICTION, I see why one might mistake me as the owner of Hetalia. However, I am not. Shocker, right?**

* * *

Sealand walked up the elegant front steps of the old Victorian mansion, trying to take in anything and ever thing. His brother had such a cool house, so he must be a cool person, right? He'd introduce himself and then he'd take him on all sorts of cool adventures!

_Knock knock knock._

He heard footsteps approaching the door, and it was opened by a young man with messy blonde hair and eyebrows that looked like moustaches for his forehead. _He MUST be my big brother!_

"Hi, I'm Sealand, your new little brother!" he said cheerful, employing his brightest smile for this very special occasion.

England stared at him for a full ten seconds before slamming the door so hard that the frame shook. He heard another voice, some scuffling and urgent whispers from behind the door, and it was opened again by a different man.

"'ow may I 'elp you, little one?" he asked, blue eyes alight with curiosity.

"Um, I'm Sealand, England's new little brother," he said, his confidence beginning to fade slightly. "Is... he around?"

"Ah," said the man, twirling a strand of long blonde hair around his finger. "He's—" He was cut off by angry whispers coming from somewhere inside the house. "—not at home. But he should be back shortly!" he added hastily, seeing the boy's crestfallen expression. "Why don't you wait inside?"

"All right!" said Sealand, confused but pushing it aside for now. Maybe England was just going to plan some adventures so they could be ready before they met! That was it!

Right?

* * *

England sat at the desk in his study, scribbling away furiously on a sheet of his most expensive stationary. He was writing a letter to his Queen, asking _how the bloody hell_ (not that he used such language, of course) they hadn't noticed that one of their old World War II forts had broken off and declared themselves independent.

The door opened (without a knock, England noted), and France walked in. "'oo was that little boy?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.

"That is the HM Fort Roughs, who is, apparently, my younger brother," said England, not looking up from his letter. "I told you to send him away!" he hissed when he finished, slamming the pen down onto the desk.

"'e is your brother. Why would you send them away?" France's tone was innocent, but his eyes held a challenge.

"I can't do this again," he said, putting his head in his hands. He knew what would happen if he opened his heart again. He'd raise the boy as his own, and then he'd have his heart ripped out when the brat decided he had no more use for a little brother.

"You 'ave other colonies. Why is this boy different?" asked France, still pressing him.

True, England had other colonies, but he never allowed himself to bond with them on a personal level. Not after what happened the first time. His new colonies were only pieces of land that added to his power.

But this boy...

This boy had the same eyes as the first one, big and blue and lit with an air of curiosity that only those who had never experienced the terrors that came with the life of a nation could possess. He had the same sort of energy, an aura that could effortlessly pull him in one day and discard him the next.

No, he wouldn't do that to himself again.

England stood. "I'll meet with him. You... should leave."

France gazed at him for a long moment before he shrugged. "If that is what you wish," he said, before walking out.

England took a deep, calming breath, steeling himself, before walking out of the study and down the hall to the drawing room.

Sealand was sitting on an elegant chair, too short legs swinging half a foot above the floor. He brightened up at England's entrance. "Hiya, England!" he said happily, his best smile resurfacing. "I'm Sealand, your little brother, but I think I said that before you left and that other guy came to the door. Who was that other guy, England? Was he your friend? Is he my friend too?" Sealand said all this in one breath, gazing at England expectantly.

England was rather taken aback by all these questions, but instead of answering them, he studied the boy. He realized now that he didn't bear as much of a resemblance to the first one as he had thought. His hair was a lighter shade, he wore a child's sailor suit rather than an old fashioned nightie, and he had rather prominent eyebrows. However...

The eyes were still the same.

They were currently staring at him now in slight confusion. "England? Are you listening? Are you okay?" asked Sealand, slightly concerned as to why the other was staring at him with a peculiar look in his eyes.

"Oh, pleasure to meet you," he said, gentlemanly instincts taking over.

"So are we going to do fun stuff now? Go on adventures and find treasure and nurse wild animals back to health? 'Cause I'm the toughest nation there ever was! I can handle it!" he said earnestly, as though someone had stated otherwise.

This jerked England out of his trance. "Nation?" he asked incredulously. "You're not a nation, you're a naval fort.

Sealand puffed out his cheeks. "I am too," he said crossly.

"No, you're not. You're part of England," said the green eyed nation, growing anxious for some strange reason that he was unable to identify. The boy would no doubt end up getting into trouble with the more powerful nations if he insisted on such silly things if he had no one to protect him and teach him the ways...

What if this was a second chance? A chance to do it all over, without the mistakes of last time?

But...

What if he ended up making those mistakes again anyway?

"I'm sorry, Sealand. Please go home," said England turning on his heel and walking out of the room without another glance.

With his exit, he sealed his heart in stone.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah… I thought this would be longer. Oh well… Not a very happy birthday fic, is it? Sorry Sealand… Well, I've got a Sealandcentric one shot coming up soon, and although it's also not very happy, it should be longer than this one. **

**Oh, and if you're wondering why France was in England's house, he came to hinder his needlework. Again. XD**

**Reviews show Sealand you love him~**


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